


A Tethered Mind

by glackedandmullered



Series: When Tomorrow Comes [3]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-12
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3167636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glackedandmullered/pseuds/glackedandmullered
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gavin discovers a possible cure for Michael's memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Tethered Mind

**Author's Note:**

> These definitely aren't being posted in chronological order, how about I just skip right to the end?
> 
> As always, please feel free to message me with ideas/ prompts for this series. I'm actually really enjoying it :)

“I don’t get why you don’t want this!” 

Kerry pushed the keyboard away from himself with a growl as Gavin’s voice washed over him from behind. The Brit been trying to track him down all day.

“I do, but it’s not going to work!”

"This guy has a whole list of success stories all across the world." Gavin argued, throwing down said list onto Kerry's desk. 

Kerry, in turn, groaned, thankful that Michael had chosen this day to not be able to face the world. 

"Look I get that you want to fix him," Kerry began, gesturing for Gavin to sit down, he did albeit huffingly, "but I've told you, we've tried it all before. Therapies, surgeries, there's been no change, the aneurysm caused too much damage, his memory capabilities are fried." 

"But-" 

Kerry shook his head, "I know you can't get his hopes up because he'll forget it tomorrow, but you won't. You can't let this take over your life, Gav. If you can't love him as he is then you know what I'm going to say," he had said it before, after all. 

Gavin sucked on his teeth, blinking slowly with his breathing, "I do love him, and apparently it's just me who can see what's happening to him." 

Kerry hesitated, his eyebrows knitting together into a frown. 

"He's changing," Gavin explained, "maybe it's something else inside his head that's telling him something's wrong but he's figuring out that something is just too fucked up." 

Kerry opened his mouth to reply but Gavin held up a hand.

"I'm not done," he hissed sharply, and Kerry snapped his lips shut. 

"Over the past month he's stayed home more times than he's come to work. He's angrier, more distant and, this week alone, he's said he should just go back to New Jersey three times- he's never said that to me before," he looked at his feet, “I’m afraid he’s going to go off again.”

Kerry remembered it well, the day Michael had just disappeared. It had been a panicked time, nobody quite getting over it, and nobody wanted that to happen again. 

He didn’t know how to reply, but Gavin didn’t give him much chance, already standing before Kerry could even open his mouth.

He tapped the papers in front of Kerry, “Just look at the list, number eight's a good one." 

With that he shuffled out of the office, hands in his pockets and eyes to the ground.

Kerry fixed Gavin with a look before lifting the paper to skim read the contents. The Brit was right, half of these cases were what the doctors would consider _impossible_ , yet here they were living mainly normal lives again. 

Gavin had left his office by the time his eyes shifted to number eight like Gavin had suggested and, there on the paper clear as day, were the details of a case almost identical to Michaels. 

_Damage of the hippocampus due to aneurysm._

_Loss of ability to create new memories beyond time of accident._

_Post op- patient retains 40% of information from prior day, improvements hopeful._

_Improvements hopeful_

_**Hopeful** _

Kerry dropped the paper to his desk and his head into his hands. 

Protecting Michael had been his sole purpose for six years - even longer if he was honest - and, so far, he had managed so well with that job. 

Protect Michaels heart, let him forget the come and go's and one night stands. Protect Michaels sanity, stop him from getting too overwhelmed. Then Ray had come along, seeking his gaming partner that had disappeared off the face of the earth, he'd come with sympathies and Halo 3. Kerry didn't try to discourage it, after all Michael never retained memories of the experience for long, and it made him so happy. 

After a while, Ray started appearing with others; Geoff fucking Ramsey of all people, and his British roommate, Gavin. It didn’t take long before Michael started falling into bad ways. He refused to sleep, knowing that if he remained awake then his brain wouldn’t reset but he couldn’t survive that way for long and Kerry had him sedated in a hospital. 

_I’ll never forgive you for this_ Michael had protested. 

He forgot all about it the next day, but the guilt within Kerry remained. 

Kerry’s trust in the guys had wavered after that, taking months to build back up and, by then, there were five of them and they were on their way to join Geoff and Gavin in Austin - and they wanted Michael to join them. 

He was 23, brain damaged yes, but 23 years old nonetheless and keeping him home was making Kerry feel like too much of a Dad to the friend who was older than him. 

In a chain of events he would never forget, Kerry ended up with his dream job working with incredible people he has idolised for years, living in scorching hot Texas. 

But his job as protector remained. 

Long after Michael moved in with his, now, boyfriends, Kerry stayed on the other end of the phone. Not once in 6 years did Kerry consider leaving. 

Not yet.

\---

Michael, of course, jumped onto the idea immediately - he had in the past too. 

"I could get fixed?” He asked excitedly, jumping up and down like a new puppy. 

Ray nodded, “You’re young and healthy, so you’re a great candidate,” he said with a grin, leaning up from his reclined position on Kerry’s couch. His legs were slung over the arm, kicking periodically.

Michael’s eyes lit up, “and it could actually work?” he looked to Kerry for reassurance but the man couldn’t quite get his smile to reach his eyes. 

“It’s a possibility that this therapy could help towards reconstructing the connections, yes.” Kerry explained, scrolling through youtube comments on his phone until Michael jabbed him on the shoulder with one finger and forced him to look up.

“Come on Kerry, smile a little, I could get my memory back!” Michael pouted, his bottom lip stuck out like a petulant child.

Kerry sighed and tossed his phone to the couch, the object only just missing clocking Ray on the side of the head. 

“It’s literally brain surgery, surgery on your actual brain,” he replied, “do you get that?” 

To Kerry’s great annoyance, Michael shrugged, his chin stuck out defiantly, “So what? Gavin said I’ve had one before?”

Kerry let out a huff of frustration. Gavin had no right bringing that up to get Michael on board, he hadn’t been there. He hadn’t waited for hours unsure and afraid, none of them had. Yet he used it as if he had suffered through it all too. 

“A year after the accident,” he began, mathing eye contact with Michael, “you woke up confused about what your name was, let alone the year we were in. For almost a week we waited, praying the surgery hadn’t made everything worse.” he choked on the words, gripping Michael by the shoulders while his heart pounded in his chest. 

“Do you even understand that your brain can only go through so much before it breaks?”

Michaels expression darkened, “It’s already broken, Kerry,” he said bluntly, shrugging his friends hands off his shoulders and taking a step back. The back of his legs met Ray’s and he stopped. 

“Michael-” before giving Kerry enough time to interrupt, Michael started pacing around the room, suddenly breathing more heavily as his feet met the floor in hollow thuds. 

“It is! My brain's busted, it's useless! I wake up every single day not knowing where the fuck I am! I can only live a day after reading a fucking dissertation on my life and I can’t- I can’t live like this!”

Kerry, again, opened his mouth to reply but Michael’s biting stare cut him off before any words could form. 

“I can’t get close to anyone and anyone that I _do_ get close to I lose the next day!” He was looking pointedly at Ray, and the edge to his voice spoke volumes of pain and sorrow. 

“I don’t know who I can trust!” he continued, “You could say anything to me and I would have to believe it because, fuck it, I’m not going to know, am I?” flushed, he stopped dead in the middle of the floor, shoulders heaving with angry breaths and hot, angry tears running down his face. 

“We wouldn’t lie to you.” Ray said quietly, his face pale, and Michael’s eyes snapped to look at him. 

“How do I know that? Huh? How!” 

Letting out a growl of rage, Michael started moving again, arms hugging himself as he paced. 

“I’m sick of this! I hate this, I hate my brain, I hate- I just hate!” He punctuated his words with hand motions that swept through the air, as if trying to punch away the tension in the air but only managed to catch one of Kerry’s shelves, sending everything - photo frames, figurines, games - crashing to the ground with a shattering sound.

“Michael, calm down.”

“I feel scared and alone, and I can’t!-” His foot came down on the head of a Super Mario figure, sending the tiny head skitting along the floor, clacking on the wooden panels.

“Michael!” Kerry repeated, this time physically stopping Michael’s motions by yanking the front of his shirt enough to send him off balance and flat against Kerry’s chest. The smaller man wrapped his arms around Michael’s back and muttered soft affirmations as he felt the man’s chest heaving against his. 

He could feel Michael’s heartbeating at an alarming rate and he was shaking. 

Realisation snapped at Michael’s mind, "I'm sorry, shit I'm so sorry." he cried, his tears of anger turning swiftly into sorrow and, as the rage bled out of him, he felt weak. 

Ray appeared behind him as his knees began to give out. Kerry allowed him to be transferred into the arms of his boyfriend and stepped away, wiping at the tears that had begun to flow freely from his own eyes. He wasn’t embarrassed at all. 

"Maybe we should-" Ray began, but Kerry got there first. 

"I think you should have the surgery."

Michael turned away from Ray’s grasp, swallowing heavily as he stopped mopping at the tears with his sleeve, "You do?" 

Kerry nodded, "You're right, that's no way to live, it's not fair," he reached over to take the reading materials that Gavin had gathered and given to him, "to anyone," he added solemnly as he handed them to Michael. 

“I’ve been thinking of everyone else for too long, I forgot that you suffer too.” 

Michael smiled, "So it's worth the risk?" he asked softly, and Kerry nodded.

"Worth the risk.”

\---

The days leading up to Michael’s surgery they all selfishly kept the information from him. 

Everyone realised that it should be in his notes, he deserved to know that someone would be operating on his brain in a matters of days but they just couldn’t bring themselves to explain it to him every single day. They already had so much to tell him, a conversation about brain surgery took up too much time. 

About a week before, Ryan had to give him a brief rundown on the way to the doctors office, and sat through the mountain of questions that Michael had, glad they had made the decision. He seemed just as upbeat about having the procedure then as he had when Gavin first told him, which was definitely hopeful. 

Hearing answers like ‘every surgery of this type has it’s risks,’ and ‘there’s no guarantee that it’ll work,’ sent them all into a deep spiral wondering whether it was for the best that Michael go through this. The next day, however, when Michael’s footsteps padded down the stairs and his vacant expression stared deep into their hearts, they knew it was the right thing to do. They all needed their lives back, Michael the most. 

Jack slipped a note into Michael’s file a couple of nights before the surgery. A half page description of what he was going to be doing, and Michael gratefully carried it down the stairs when he woke up. 

The night before, Michael found himself staring at the ceiling. The evening had long passed, dusk sky turning pitch black as time disappeared, and silence ringing out aside from the soft breathing of five sleeping men. 

Too much going on in his head was stopping him from drifting off into his usual, erasing sleep. Less than twelve hours from that moment someone, that Michael didn’t remember meeting, was going to crack open his skull and screw around with his grey matter; maybe restoring his ability to act like a normal human being. Twelve hours and he might wake up in the morning knowing everything he’d learnt the day before. It sounded so trivial and stupid but to Michael it was enough to make his heart work double-time and his head spin. 

After an hour or two of staring aimlessly and listening to the gentle breathing around him, Michael gave up trying to let his brain rest. He’d be knocked out tomorrow anyway, why waste his time. He gently untangled his limbs from Geoff’s, the Gent had cuddled up to him seconds after settling under the sheets and had spent the time breathing warm air onto Michael’s neck. 

Geoff didn’t wake and, as soon as Michael was out of the bed, he turned in his sleep and spooned up against Ray on his other side. Like I was never there, Michael thought dimly. 

The TV illuminated most of the room, casting shadows along the walls and burned Michael’s retinas. The screen was blurry even with his glasses but he wasn’t paying his complete attention to whatever late-night show whizzed by. He had lowered the volume so much it was barely audible anyway, it might as well be on mute but Michael was too afraid to turn it up in case someone heard. He had no idea if any one of his boyfriends was a light sleeper. 

Footsteps on the stairs alerted Michael to Ryan’s presence before he could speak. 

"Couldn't sleep?" 

Michael tilted his head back so that he could see over the back of the couch and hummed, smiling softly at the man approaching. 

Ryan smiled in return and rested his elbows on the backrest beside Michael’s head, "Well you didn't jump a mile or attack me so I guess you didn't sleep at all?"

Shaking his head, Michael let his attention drift back to the glowing screen, “Kept tossing and turning, didn’t want to wake anyone else up, so I came down here.” he paused, “I didn’t wake you did i?”

Ryan waved a hand dismissively, “Chronic insomniac at your service.” 

“I didn’t know that.” Michael replied.

“We didn’t put it in your notes, seemed like a waste of space.” Ryan continued, moving around the couch to sit beside his boyfriend. 

Without skipping a beat, Michael whispered,“Ray talks in his sleep.”

Frowning, Ryan nodded, "He always has," he replied slowly, eyeing Michael with caution. 

"Just another thing you can add to the list of things I don’t know about you guys but should,” Michael muttered angrily, his arms tightening across his chest and hiding himself even more. 

“But I guess you were right to leave stuff out, must be frustrating to tell me the same things over and over,” his eyes cast down to the couch and his fingers picked at the collar of his night shirt. 

Ryan tutted and shuffled closer, his hand grazing the bare skin of Michael’s knee, "Hey, chin up, we might not have to do that for much longer," 

He received a watery smile in return, "Chin up. My Mom used to say that,” Ryan shrugged and nodded with a knowing look across his features. 

"It's good advice, darling." Michael blushed and ducked his head down. 

"What?" Ryan asked.

"Nothing." Michael replied quickly, blushing even more, "It's just you called me darling. I liked that." 

Chuckling, Ryan returned his hand to Michael’s knee and smiled, "I save it just for you."

Lapsing into a comfortable silence, Michael turned his attention back to the TV. The show he had been vaguely watching had ended a while ago, an old game show re-run taking it’s place. Ryan stayed where he was, curled towards Michael, and with his hand pressed to the lad’s knee. The contact was sweet, and definitely well received.

"I keep thinking about the stupid surgery." Michael muttered after a while, Ryan hummed questioningly. 

"I just wish I could remember the last one so I knew how it felt, you know." 

Cocking his head in thought, Ryan squinted past the TV, “Remember when you were twelve and you broke your arm? You had to get it reset in the hospital.” 

Michael nodded, at least he still had some memories remaining. 

“Think of it like that,” Ryan continued, “A bit of prodding, a needle stick and then the anesthetic will make sure you’re away with the fairies from the rest of it.”

“And when I wake up?” Michael said nervously, “Will the anesthetic work like sleep?” _am I going to remember you when I wake up?_ went unsaid. 

Ryan regarded him sadly, “I couldn’t say, I’ve researched up to my eyeballs about this stuff but I didn’t look for that.” 

Michael nodded in understanding, “But if it works, we won’t have to worry about it.”

“Ever again, exactly.” Ryan finished for him. 

Michael inhaled and exhaled carefully, catching Ryan’s eyes for the briefest moment before keeping his breath inhaled, trapping it in his lungs and solidifying it inside. 

“If this doesn’t work,” Michael started, his voice shaking, “I think you guys should go,” The oxygen turned to ice and he shivered. 

Ryan uncurled from his comfortable position “What?” 

Refusing to make eye contact, Michael continued, “Give my stuff to Kerry, he can send it to my Mom, and I’ll go back to New Jersey.”

It wasn't a sudden thought. It was a calculated plan that had been whipping around Michaels head all day, burning his tongue as he held it back. He couldn't be sure if he had thought or said it before, but the thought felt familiar. 

“No.” Ryan said bluntly.

Michael exhaled the ice, letting it cool the tension seeping in, “Ryan,” he breathed. 

“No fucking way,”Ryan repeated, growling, “Not a chance in hell and you can stop that talk right now because we aren’t fucking going anywhere.”

Michael huffed, exasperated as he curled himself up on the couch one again,“It’s not fair, Ryan, you have to forget me.” 

“We can’t.” He snapped, surprising Michael with the harshness in his voice, “You can, you could take every hint of us out of your life and you would never see us again, but we don’t get that privilege. We would remember everything.” Michael’s head dropped into his hands in despair, and Ryan’s eyes softened, “and we want to.” He added softly. 

Michael raised his head up again, eyes wide and teary. Ryan took Michael’s large hands into his own and continued. 

“For you it’s been a day, for us it’s been almost 3 years, and every single moment of those months will never leave us - every smile, every joke, every kiss. We’ll see every moment of falling in love with you like a slideshow with every breath we take, because we get to do that every single day of our lives.”

He sighed, running his thumbs over the soft skin on the back of Michael’s hand, “I’m not saying it hasn’t been hard, and sure some days we wish we could say good morning before you’ve read your notes and not expect fear and confusion, I mean we wouldn’t be human if we hadn’t. But none of that matters with you, because you’re worth meeting over and over.”

Michael tried to duck his head down, to hide the blush creeping up his neck, but Ryan didn’t let him. A hand under Michael’s chin and another in the lad’s hair, Ryan forced the eye contact. 

“So, say this surgery doesn’t work, and you still can’t remember us, you won’t remember this conversation either, and I will never say a thing to remind you. Because you’re worth any pain it may put in our hearts,” he paused, his voice choked. 

“And because we love you. More than anything.”

With that he leaned forward and captured Michael’s lips in a sweet kiss. His lips were soft, the smallest hint of stubble dusted his skin around them and ticked Michael’s face. When they broke apart, Michael was smiling, tears washing his skin with no shame behind them. 

“You wanna get some sleep now?” Ryan asked, moving to help Michael off the couch.

The man shook his head, “I want to stay up, I’d rather remember all this before I go in tomorrow.” 

Ryan looked like he was mulling it over for a while before he nodded, and reached around Michael’s back to pull down the blanket folded neatly over the back of the couch.

“As long as you’ll let me stay.”

He settled into the corner of the couch, holding the blanket away from his body until Michael figured out what he wanted. He crawled across the cushions and flopped onto Ryan’s chest, his legs spread out behind him. Ryan’s heartbeat played a soothing rhythm against his ear and the steady rise and fall of his chest almost lulled Michael to sleep multiple times, but every time he was about to drop off Ryan would nudge him, or say something that kept him awake. 

He was grateful for that. 

\---

Ryan ended up going silent around three, drifting off into sleep in the middle of a sentence. Michael didn’t mind much, he was content to watch his boyfriend sleep; his resting face was so young and innocent, free of the stress-lines that Michael was sure he had a part in embedding in the skin. 

After Ryan had fallen asleep, Michael had thought long and hard about what his boyfriend had said. He wasn’t sure how he had managed to get so lucky, had no idea what he had done to get men as amazing as these guys in his life. They all deserved better than what Michael could give, but they didn’t want anything else - or at least they were content to live without it- and Michael could only desperately pray that, if this surgery didn’t work, his subconscious would retain just that little sliver of conversation. Just the emotions, just so he didn’t have to feel that way again. 

If the others were surprised to see him awake and alert when they wandered down the stairs a few hours later, they didn’t say anything about it. Ray kissed him on the forehead before following Gavin into the kitchen to fix them all some coffee; Jack gently woke Ryan, and Geoff sat himself behind Michael’s back, pulling the lad to lean against his chest. No one spoke for the first hour, the gravity of the situation ahead washing over them in waves - It wasn’t until Kerry let himself in an hour before they had to leave, that anyone even left their cuddled positions. 

Tossing the overnight bag onto the backseat of Jack’s car, Michael sat beside the bearded man.

“You good to go?” Kerry asked from the back as he clicked his seat belt into place.

Michael turned in his seat to give a thumbs up, through the back window he could see everyone else piling into Geoff’s car, since one couldn’t hold them all. One of the sticky notes that sat on the wall above the key hooks read ‘we may be a big family, but we haven’t resorted to minibus status just yet.’

\---

“If it works, when will we know?” 

Jack and Ray paced tight rows across the length of the waiting room while Geoff and Ryan sat with Michael’s surgeon. Gavin had refused to leave the door separating himself from Michael and, though they all knew he would have to be moved soon, no one had said anything yet. 

Doctor Hill thought for a moment, pushing his thin rimmed glasses up his nose with his middle finger, “For most of the successful cases memories started to retain after a couple of days,” he replied thoughtfully. 

Geoff’s stomach dropped, “Most?”

“Well of course there are anomalies, we’ve had a couple of cases take a few weeks, and one that took six months, every case is unique.” 

“So we might not know for six months?”

“Like I said, varying amounts of damage will garner different results. Michael has a lot going on inside his head and it’s a whole lot to try and heal overnight,” taking in the dejected looks in response to his words, the Doctor sighed, “Look, I can’t get your hopes up, there’s every chance that it won’t work, but he’s young, healthy, and he’s in a good position for this to go well. At the very least, he’ll go home as he was before.” 

Not a minute later Gavin shuffled through the doorway, ushered in by a kind faced nurse who led him to a seat and helped him sit down. He looked dazed and pale, and Ray immediately sat down beside him, arms coming up around his back to hold him close. 

The nurse leaned down to Doctor Hill, speaking in hushed tones and he nodded in understanding. 

“It’s time to go in, sit tight, we’ll see you soon.”

\---

‘Soon’ turned out to be a lot longer than anyone was expecting.

In the end the six of them - Kerry included - sat in the hospital waiting room for close to six hours. 

Geoff circled the room for most of the time, alternating between holding himself back from running out to get whiskey and accepting the many cups of coffee that appeared after each of Gavin’s anxious trips to the vending machine. He disappeared to the bathroom to pee every half hour almost to the minute, and used those moments spent walking through the hospital hallways to think about how much their lives could be about to change. He was sure he had lost a few pounds from all the walking by the time it was over. 

Gavin jumped around like a rabbit on speed for the first half of the surgery, hyped up on caffeine and nerves that kept him wide awake until Ryan cut off his supply and forced him to stay in the waiting room with the rest of them. After that he crashed out, floating in a headspace close to sleep but his brain was too wired to let him fully commit to the rest. 

He’d been with Michael until the moment they took him to the operating theatre, albeit on the other side of thick glass and out of the man’s sight, but he had been there. Gavin had seen the nurse walk him through the procedure one last time, her calming smile genuine and kind; he had seen the medication drip through the tubes into Michael’s bloodstream, seen the way that Michael’s eyes became heavy lidded and hard to keep open until he finally gave up and let the drugs take him away. After that the flurry of activity had increased and the kind faced nurse had led him away, informing him that he had done all he could now, everything else was up to the Doctors, and Michael. 

Ryan on the other hand remained very calm throughout the wait, the information he had gathered and printed staying practically glued to his hands as he spread out across one row of seats and kept his focus on the facts and figures instead of the reality of his boyfriend having someone poking around in his brain at that very moment. He had opted to keep his and Michael’s conversation to himself, choosing to leave the others oblivious to Michael’s request. It had broken his heart enough to hear it once, he couldn’t relay it back. 

Instead he was content to take up the row of seats, enjoying the silence more than he would have liked the nervous conversation that could have been happening. 

Jack was somewhat the same, he kept up his efforts of asking if everyone was okay, if they needed anything before Ray coaxed him to sit back down and Jack allowed the smaller man to cuddle up to his chest, breath reassuring on his neck. Ray stayed there for almost four hours, and, for most of that time, Jack knew he was sleeping. Unsure how he had managed to fall asleep at a time like this, Jack gently ran his hands up and down the lads back, caressing soothing lines and let the man take the rest he could get. 

Kerry ducked in and out of the room periodically to make phone calls to Michael’s parents. While they couldn’t make it down for the surgery, not that they would have if they could, they were still keen to take the small updates Kerry could give them - even if that meant hearing ‘no news yet’ twenty times. 

When Doctor Hill finally appeared, dark hair flat against his skull and his scrubs cap wringing between his hands, they leapt to their feet to greet him. He smiled, said the surgery went as well as they could have hoped and that the rest was up to Michael. He didn’t say why the surgery took so long, and no one asked. Nothing mattered beyond the knowledge that Michael was out and ready to start healing. 

Whether that meant a success? That had yet to be determined. 

For the first few hours they were instructed to stay outside the door to his room. Post surgery he was in a special ward before being moved to intensive care; the distance between him and the six men waiting anxiously was barely a few feet. A glass wall and a curtain - that had been pulled back - were the only things separating them, stopping them from reaching out and touching him, and they really wanted to touch him. 

He had a tube down his throat - standard procedure, they were assured - and a thick wad of bandages wrapped around his skull. His exposed arms were being used as pin cushions, so many tubes and wires slipping under his skin that they couldn’t count, and his skin was a shade paler than it should have been. 

He didn’t wake up until the next day, and when he did he could barely be counted as being awake. Confusion all over his face, his pupils blown wide from the drugs, he couldn’t even remember Kerry. Michael stared straight ahead, eyebrows knitted together in a frown as the Doctor explained his condition and what was happening to him. He barely got through the first half of his speech before Michael was out again. 

The following day was certainly more of a lucid one. The tube had been removed, his lips dry and cracked in the wake of the plastic, and any oxygen assistance entered his system through a nasal cannula which Michael spend a good thirty minutes trying to take off before a nurse taped it to the side of his face with a reprimanding look. Michael looked back at her like a kicked puppy, but didn’t touch it again. 

On that second day he was all questions.

“Where am I Kerry?”

“Who are these people?” 

“What happened? Was I in an accident?”

At least he had started recalling Kerry’s existence, they thought while blinking back tears. Kerry went through the practised introductions and the shortest account of the last few years without overloading Michael’s poor, torn open head.

“He hasn’t got any solid memories to recall yet,” Hill said calmly when they converged on him, “tomorrow will be the real first tell.” 

They were pretty sure a human couldn’t survive without breathing twelve hours, but they sure as hell didn’t feel their chests move until Michael woke up the next day. 

“Kerry, what’s going on?” Michael’s first words shot through the five men like lightning and it was only then that they really started to face up to the reality that the surgery may not have worked. 

In fact, as the days went by, it looked like just that. 

Geoff was the first one to go home, only for one night. To sleep, he said, but Jack had to dart off to rescue him from a bar as he drank himself shit-faced drunk at 1am. They both slept in the bed, it was too big, there was too much space around them and neither of them got much rest, but it was a moment away from the reality and they liked that. 

Gavin and Ray joined them after night four, eyelids heavy and dark shadows swallowing up their tired eyes. Barely any words were spoken between them but there were smiles on their faces for the first time in days as they curled up around each other and fell into a slightly more comfortable sleep. They were only missing two now. 

“You should go too,” Kerry whispered to Ryan as he began to doze off in the chair beside Michael’s bed.

Although Michael had been awake and more alert for the past couple of days, his memory still wasn’t improving and he drifted in and out of sleep 

Ryan jolted awake, “I can’t,” he said, shaking his head, “I can’t leave him alone.”

“He isn’t alone, he has me,” Kerry replied quietly, resting his hand on Ryan’s shoulder, “He’ll be okay, Ryan. You need to get some rest, it’s been nearly a week.” 

“You haven’t been home either.” The gent pointed out as he stood up, rolling his shoulders and clicking out the kinks in his back. 

Kerry shrugged, “I’ve done this before, I’ll be fine.” 

Ryan hummed his disapproval, but he knew there was no use arguing, plus he _really_ was tired. 

“Tomorrow we’ll swap,” he promised, glancing at Michael again before shuffling into the hallway. 

The nurses working the night shift gave him a small wave as he passed them, visiting hours were tight and he wasn’t sure how they managed to stick around indefinitely; maybe it was the pitiful look in their eyes. 

The house was cold, dark, and quiet when Ryan arrived home. Kicking off his shoes, he contemplated trekking upstairs and sliding into bed with the others but pushed the idea aside at the thought of waking them from much needed rest. Instead he settled down on the couch; as he pulled down the blanket that they had flung over the couch a few nights ago he thought about that conversation again. The blanket smelled like Michael, and he couldn’t bear to think about throwing it out, throwing out anything of the lad’s, throwing out the man himself. 

Even if his memory was truly lost forever, even if they had to redo the introductions every day for the rest of his life he would do it. 

The next morning as Ryan made his way up to the ward, he couldn’t help but notice the smiles that passed him by. Ryan entered Michael’s room cautiously, no one had been in the house when he woke up on the couch, only a note taped to his forehead that read _Didn’t want to wake you, come to the hospital when you can_. He was met upon entering the room by four faces looking at him with grins on their faces; his boyfriends, all sat around Michael’s bed, looking like kids on Christmas. It couldn’t…

Michael turned his head as he heard the door close. His eyes were still unfocused, despite his glasses, and he looked pretty drowsy but a spark of recognition flickered there. Ryan’s heart leapt into his throat. 

“Oh hey...uh...Ryan, yeah Ryan,” he didn’t see Ryan’s eyes widen in shock because he was facing the window again, sleepily closing his eyes, and going back to dozing. 

Ryan swallowed hard before looking in shock to the others, “Did you…?” his question was answered with a round of shaking heads, and tears sprung to his eyes.


End file.
